


To Have and To Hold

by adjovi



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 12:38:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14749037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adjovi/pseuds/adjovi
Summary: Eliot discovers there are many different ways to love. A mosiac fic and my submission for Welter's week 4 challenge theme: Love.





	To Have and To Hold

**Author's Note:**

> So, pretty angsty, slightly fluffy. Day in the life of the mosaic quest. Been wanting to write this one for awhile, and it seemed right for the challenge. Thanks for any comments or kudos. :)  
> #thewelterschallenge 
> 
> (you know, if I can figure out how to post there--if anyone has any tips, would love to know--thx I am pretty hopeless)

He knew it was going to be a colossally shitty day from the moment he woke. There was no way around it. He just couldn’t have predicted just how fucking awful it would be. If he had, he probably wouldn’t have even gotten out of bed. Quentin had arisen before him, probably unable to sleep, taking Teddy with him outside, as the boy was nowhere in sight. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the thick, loamy smell of the cabin, stretching before pulling on the scratchy but durable Fillorian garb they had procured once their old earth clothes had completely given up the ghost, mere threads held together by grime at that point. He opened the door to the cabin, taking in Quentin angrily working at the mosaic, slamming tiles haphazardly. In contrast, Teddy was screaming in delight, circling the outside perimeter of the puzzle, arms outstretched as if about to take flight. This was before they realized the kid just needed to _run_ to burn off that childish energy, but they were both just winging it at this point. When he saw him, the boy smiled and changed course, zooming towards Eliot. But, he miscalculated the turn, knocking over a pile of tiles, shattering them. A minor mending spell would make quick work of the mess.

Quentin’s head shot up angrily. “Jesus Christ, Teddy!” He stood, hands on his hips, looking down at the mess.

Teddy froze, eyes wide, and his bottom lip quivered, fat tears rolling down his face. Eliot walked over and gently picked him up, rubbing his back. Teddy tucked his head under his chin, shoulders shaking with sobs. Eliot glared at Quentin. “You can’t yell at him like that. It was an accident. He is just a child.”

Quentin glared right back, clearly pissed. “You baby him. He’s not even your…” He immediately knew what he had said was a mistake. That much was clear. His eyes went very wide and his posture softened instantly. “Shit. Eliot, I…”

He felt like he had been sucker punched. He knew that today was hard, knew that Quentin was grieving, and he honestly didn’t believe he _really_ meant it. What hurt so fucking much was that Q even had that particular weapon in his arsenal. “You know what, buddy?” He swung Teddy around, kissing his forehead and setting him on the ground. “I’m going to go into town.” Teddy wrapped his arms around Eliot’s leg, howling now, so he picked him back up. “How ‘bout you help me get ready, huh?” He carried him into the house without a look back. 

Teddy was still crying a bit as they entered, not in earnest anymore, though, just a few soft hiccups. “Why’s daddy so mad?”

Eliot sighed, setting him down on the kitchen chair. He felt like ignoring the question, not feeling especially charitable towards Quentin at the moment, but Teddy was still so little. “Daddy’s sad.” He spied some cookies on the counter and brought one to him, and the boy instantly brightened. He was at the age where cookies meant something special. Eliot also pulled out some chalk and paper, placing it in front of him. “Why don’t you draw me a picture for when I get back?” Teddy nodded at him eagerly, and he took the distraction to pack a bag with a few essentials, a canteen of water and an apple. He kissed Teddy on his head. “I’ll see you later on tonight. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Teddy’s mouth was full, so the words were muffled, and he was intently focused on drawing…a horse? Maybe? Or a cat? 

Eliot strode past Quentin, deliberately ignoring him. “Eliot, please!” He didn't reply, holding one hand in the air, flicking him off as he walked away into the woods. 

The town wasn’t that far, maybe an hour’s walk, and Eliot allowed himself to enjoy the solitude and the sunlight. He hadn’t ventured into town by himself for a long while now, loathe to leave Quentin and Teddy for even a minute. By the time he got there, he realized he was actually pretty hungry, having skipped breakfast, so his first stop was the little pub right on the outskirts.

Soja was working today. Usually, he was greeted with a flirtatious grin that bordered on filthy, one that made Quentin squirm uncomfortably. He would shamelessly flirt back, milking the situation for all that it was worth. Today, just she gave him a small, sad smile. “No Quentin?”

He sighed, sitting. He gave her a tight grin. “Taking the day off.” He ordered an ale and a meat pie, and settled into his thoughts.

When they had first gotten together, he had allowed doubt to creep right the fuck in, making things awkward, but almost incapable of stopping it. He knew things were getting serious between them, Quentin had told him the night before that he was going to ask her to move in with them. Eliot began mentally to prepare for leaving, He was cleaning the dishes from lunch, watching them from the window. Quentin was working the mosaic and she kept distracting him with kisses, laughing deliriously at something he had just said. They were both aglow in the late afternoon sun, beautiful and happy. He was surprised when the cabin door opened. 

“Hey.” Her voice was light and airy, and she came right up to his side. 

He had his back to her, determinedly focused on the dishes. “Hey.”

She took the dish from his hand and set it back in the sink. Her eyes were dancing. “So, I think I am in for the whole thing.”

His stomach fell, and he distracted himself by wiping his hands on the towel. “Oh. Right. Well, I can find…”

“Gods!” She shook her head, frustrated. “Don’t you get it? I’m in for the _whole_ thing.” She shrugged. “He’s not whole without you.” He just stared at her, and she reached up, pulling him into a kiss. Not the playful or passionate kisses he had seen her share with Quentin. This was something different. This was solemn. A bond. He got it. She pulled back and grinned at him. She reminded him so much of Margo in that moment that he fell completely in love with her. “Ok?”

“Ok.”

The second time doubt began to creep back in was when they told her she was pregnant. He hadn’t meant to, it was just they both seemed so excited and this was something that was wholly _theirs_. He tried so very hard not to let it show, but knew he was failing. It was early one morning when he woke and crept out to the mosaic. A short while after he began working, she came out with a glass of water for him, her hair glowing in the morning sun like fire. She was so beautiful it took his breath away. She gently tugged his hand and placed it over the large swell of her belly. “We can’t do this without you.”

Any doubt that may have been lingering evaporated the second Quentin placed the impossibly tiny bundle into his hands. He was immediately smitten, feeling his heart fill in a way that he didn’t even think was possible. Quentin was holding onto his arm, beaming down at their son, and Eliot just leaned over and kissed him, wanting to share his joyous wonder with the man that he loved. 

At the end, they had sent Teddy to stay with the neighbors. It was just too fucking painful to have him there, and besides, he was far too young to even understand what was happening. Quentin was completely inconsolable, a walking shell, eyes hollowed and permanently red-rimmed. They had been trying to get her to eat something but she finally just asked them to let her rest. Quentin had bolted out the door, most likely not wanting her to see him break down completely. As Eliot moved to follow, he felt a weak hand on his wrist. “Stay.”

He sat with her, smoothing her hair from her fevered brow, his heart breaking. “I’ll take care of him. Them.”

She smiled at him. “I know. That is why it is going to be ok.”

She died later on that night, exactly one year ago today. Eliot shoved the pie away, he’d only managed a few bites before his appetite left him. He nodded at Soja and headed outside. 

The town was small, and he recognized most of the faces, regarding him with sad, knowing looks. He resented their pity, just a little bit. He made his way over to the woman who sold flowers. She pressed a small bouquet into his hand, something that looked like crocuses but had a different name he couldn't remember. “These were her favorites.” She nodded at him soberly.

He bought a small stuffed sock that had cleverly been shaped into a dog for Teddy, and a few other essentials they needed for the house. The sun was making its slow journey towards setting, and he knew it would be dark by the time he got home.

The tiles had been left untouched since the morning, but he couldn’t bring himself to be bothered by this. Not today. He made his way behind the cabin to the little clearing where they had buried her. He laid the flowers on the small stone the mason had cut with her name, touching it lightly. “We miss you.”

When he walked to the front door of the cabin, he could hear Teddy wailing inside, Quentin speaking to him in low tones, trying to comfort him. He swung open the door, and Teddy launched himself at him from the bed. He was crying again, hugging Eliot fiercely around the neck, like he was afraid to let go. “You were gone so long!” His speech was stuttering, crying between words. “What if you went away like mommy?”

Eliot felt like he might collapse with grief, only kept upright by the boy in his arms. He looked over at Quentin then, who truly looked miserable and clearly had been crying. He caught his eyes. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He pulled out the dog from his bag. “I got you something!” 

Teddy’s eyes lit up at the sight of the toy, hugging it. “I’m calling him ‘Hukka’!”

Eliot made his way over towards the bed. “Hukka, huh?” He laid Teddy down by Quentin. “That’s a new one.” 

Teddy held a small hand towards him. “Tell me a story!” 

Eliot sat and laid a palm over Teddy’s back. He had been saving this one for a special occasion, feeling now was as good a time as any. "Into every generation a slayer is born: one girl in all the world, a chosen one. She alone will wield the strength and skill to fight the vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness; to stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their number. She is the Slayer.” Quentin shot a concerned look towards him, but he just shook his head tightly to dispel any fears. He had worked out the G-rating for this particular tale, long enough to stretch over the next few months. By the time he had gotten to the part where Buffy met the new librarian for the first time, Teddy’s breath had steadied into sleep. Yep. He was going to get a lot of mileage out of this one. Quentin reached over, circling his wrist with his hand. 

“I’m really sorry, El.”

He kept focusing on Teddy’s back rising up and down. “I know.”

“I didn’t mean it. You have to know that.”

“I do.” He looked up at him, then. “But you have to understand, I lost her, too. I loved her, too.”

Quentin swallowed thickly. “I know.” 

He looked back down at Teddy. “And, I love this little boy more than I thought I was even capable of.” 

Quentin’s eyes filled with tears. “I know that, too.”

He sighed, briefly closing his eyes. “And, I love you. So much that my heart _aches_ for you. But don’t ever say that to me again.”

A tear slipped down Quentin’s face. “I love you, Eliot. And, I won't. I promise.” 

Eliot brushed the tear away and pulled Quentin into a hug. They were both quietly crying, careful not to wake the boy. He had been upset enough for one day. Eliot looked at the ceiling, lifting up a silent prayer to her, thanking her for the miracle she had given him. For his family.


End file.
